


Deja-Vu All Over Again

by shealynn88



Category: Tru Calling
Genre: F/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn't expecting repeat customers, but there's a lot about this, still, that she doesn't understand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deja-Vu All Over Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hecate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/gifts).



"Tru, you're late. Is everything okay?" Davis falls into step beside her as she pulls her lab coat on.

"Davis, I'm so sorry. Lunch ran late with Lindsey..."

The stress must show because he just shakes his head. "No, no, it's just...it's not like you, that's all. I mean, half the time, I wonder if you _live_ here." He gives an awkward laugh and gestures toward the crypt. "Gardez is just coming in. I'll...umm...I'll be in the office if you need anything."

She nods and pushes through the doors to wait for Gardez, glad to have a second to breathe.

When he rolls in, Tru pushes herself off the prep table to help. "Whatcha got?" she asks, taking the bag of personal effects off the gurney.

"Good Samaritan. Poor bastard thought he was invincible-gave his life vest to a drowning kid and the current got him. Kid's got a lot of therapy coming to him, know what I mean?"

"Jesus," Tru says, dumping the bag out on a tray and picking up a leather wallet. "What were they _doing_ out there?"

Gardez shrugs. "Family went out for a pleasure cruise near Sandy Hook and capsized around three. People don't realize you can't take a sailboat out there if the weather's not right. Freak squall caught them. Lucky for them, this guy came along."

"Not so lucky for him." There's fifty dollars and an empty sleeve for photographs, and Tru pulls it out to get to the ID. "Guess it's a good thing his wallet didn't wash away. At least now the family can be notified."

Gardez gives a short laugh. "Hell, lucky we got the _body_. If the father hadn't gone back after him, current would have carried him out to sea. Would've made our job _real_ easy."

The wet leather sticks to the license and Tru has to fight to get it out. The picture is small but well preserved, and she feels suddenly cold. "Oh my God," she whispers.

Gardez doesn't seem to notice. "I know he was a good guy and all, but seems to me with that fancy boat of his, maybe he should have invested in another life vest instead of that Rolex, you know? Tru?"

She hears the concern in his voice and wants to laugh it off, but she can't stop staring at the picture.

Finally she tears her eyes away and steps up to the gurney, dragging the zipper down and revealing a line of blue flesh. When she pushes the edges of the bag aside, he's almost exactly as she remembers.

Her laugh is sudden and strangled. "Andrew," she says quietly, "We've got to stop meeting like this."

She has just long enough to notice the slight differences between this time and last-the hemorrhaging in the whites of his eyes, consistent with drowning, the unmarred skin of his chest where she remembers a bullet wound.

Then blue lips part; dead eyes snap open.

_"Help me."_

And the day falls out from under her.

***

It feels like a nightmare every time. She wakes up trembling, her last memory of dead eyes and dead skin and someone asking her for help.

At least this time, it's only one. And she already knows where to find him.

She tells herself that puts her ahead, but it scares her that she's seeing him again. Will it be like this for all of them? Will those five guys she just saved be back, one by one, asking for her help until she fails them?

It feels like a game she doesn't know the rules to, where the stakes are too high to contemplate...

And she remembers Harrison.

She dials as she pulls a camisole out of the closet and grabs a pair of jeans.

The phone clicks. "Harry! It's Tru-"

_"-here right now, leave me a message and I'll get back to you."_

"Damn it, Harry!" She waits for the beep. "Hey, it's Tru. Look, it's one of those days, so _listen_ to me for once, okay? Do _not_ go to the track with Billy. I don't have the money to bail you out. All right?" She wants to leave it there, but she knows him. He won't listen unless she gives him something concrete.

She sighs. "Stay home. Stick to the Sox, 5 point spread. And watch the mustard, Harry, I know you're on your last clean shirt."

It's the best she can do. She hopes he listens.

***

When she gets out of the shower the clock next to the bed reads 9:21. Great. She has five and a half hours to save a family and a wealthy yacht owner from a storm that no one sees coming.

Tru calls Lindsey as she pulls on her shoes, grabbing her bag and shutting the door as Lindsey finally answers.

 _"Don't say it,"_ Lindsey warns.

"Linds, I'm sorry. You know I am. Just...something-"

 _"Came up. I know."_ Lindsey sighs. _"You owe me."_

"I'll make it up to you." Tru pauses at the corner and then heads for the docks. It's her best chance of finding the family, and if that fails, she knows that's where Andrew will be. "Hey, what's going on with you and James? You haven't mentioned him in a while..."

_"Oh. Yeah. You know. It's the same. As long as I don't let him talk too long, we're okay."_

"You deserve better," Tru says, catching sight of the harbor ahead.

Lindsey chuckles. _"Don't give me guilty small talk, Tru. Just promise me we can do lunch soon."_

Tru searches the water from afar, looking for signs of a storm. The sky looks clear. "I promise," she says, clicking her phone shut. She has less than five hours.

***

The harbormaster has watery eyes and leathery skin and laughs kindly at her warnings.

"You don't get better days than this one, Miss. You might want to double check your source." He taps the screen in front of him. "This'll warn us of anything that might cause trouble. Don't you worry."

"Keep an eye on the water near Sandy Hook this afternoon," she pleads. They've been through this five times already. "It really looked like there was trouble coming."

He nods and smiles but she knows he's not hearing her, and now she's running out of time to catch Andrew. "Just watch it," she tells him again, and he waves good-bye as she runs down the pier.

***

She has no idea what to say to him. It should be easier since she's already saved his life once, but Harrison is living proof that her ability can be stubbornly overlooked and explained away.

And if there's one thing she knows about Andrew Webb, it's that he's both stubborn and suspicious.

He's untying the dock lines when she reaches him.

"Good morning," she says casually, shielding her face with one hand.

Andrew looks up in surprise, emotion tightening his mouth and narrowing his eyes for one long moment before he turns back to the rope.

"I can't say I ever really expected to see you again," he says, not looking up.

"Yeah," she murmurs under her breath, "I don't usually get repeat customers."

"What was that?"

She shakes her head and smiles. "I was just saying, it was kind of a surprise for me, too."

"Oh, really?" He stands up and brushes his hands off on his slacks. "Do you sleep walk, now?"

"Look," she says, forcing her voice to stay even. "I know you don't like me much, and I don't blame you. But last time I gave you advice, it saved your life. So do us both a favor and don't go out on the water today, okay?"

He looks at her incredulously for a moment, and then out at the water. "That's it? Just...don't go out?"

"That's it. Just today, don't go out."

He nods slowly, pursing his lips. "It's not quite that easy..." he tips his head and smiles thinly. "You know, I never _did_ catch your name."

She hesitates for just a second. But if she doesn't help him, he'll die today saving a child. That's worth something. A name, for sure...and hopefully another chance.

"Tru," she answers finally. "Tru Davies."

"Well, Tru...I don't get many chances to go out on the water. This'll be the first time in over a month. I'm going to need a damn good reason to stay in."

"There's a storm coming."

He looks at the clear sky over the harbor and laughs. "Really. From photographer to sailor. When did that happen?"

"I'm trying to help you," she says, getting annoyed.

His gaze is dark and intense-a mix of suspicion and weary amusement. She refuses to look away.

He smiles, finally, and the moment is gone. "So, help," he says, pulling the coiled rope off his shoulder and tossing it at her. "Just put that in the cabin and have a seat, I'll get it when I come up."

She laughs uncertainly and shakes her head. "I can't just...go with you. I have other things..." She trails off. She doesn't know anything about the family or the boat. There are miles of water along Sandy Hook and it's going to be impossible for her to convince the Coast Guard of an emergency if she can't give them any details.

"I thought you were helping me."

She nods slowly. "Okay, fine. In the cabin, you said?" she asks, hefting the rope.

"You got it." He turns to grab some other things from the dock and Tru heads up into the boat.

He'll lead her to the family if she lets him set the course. She just needs to be patient.

After she double checks that he's still on the dock, she heads for the cockpit and surveys the controls. If she ignores the gauges, it looks pretty straight forward. She pulls the radio out of its cradle and looks it over. _I'm guessing I don't dial 911_ , she thinks, shuffling through the papers to one side in the hopes that there's a booklet somewhere.

"My patience has its limits, Tru. What the hell is going on?"

She sets the radio down and turns slowly. Andrew is standing in the doorway looking unamused. "It's just what I told you, I'm trying to help." She glances down at her watch. "Look, I'll tell you everything, but if we're going to go out, we need to do it now."

His eyes narrow in suspicion and he looks her up and down. "So I get us out on open water, no one else for miles...and then you do what? Hold me up? Take my boat?" He takes a step toward her, lowering his voice. "Was this the plan all along? Set me up, make me trust you, and then get me alone? For what? What could I possibly have that's worth all that trouble?"

"What?" It takes her a minute to realize he's talking about the last time she saved his life. "I didn't set you up! I just want to talk to you!" His expression doesn't change and she thrusts her bag at him angrily. "Go ahead, search it. I'm here to _help_ you."

He reaches out slowly to take it, looking slightly mollified.

"She really did a number on you, huh?" Tru says quietly as he rummages through her bag. His only response is a darkening of his expression.

Tru forces herself not to look at her watch. If he won't trust her, she'll have to find another way. Notify the Coast Guard from shore, somehow, and convince them there's a storm coming, or that Andrew is missing. The chances that they'll find both Andrew and the family before something happens...

"Please," she says quietly. "Just hear me out. Set a course and I'll tell you what's going on. Bring me back if you don't believe me. Bring me back and I'll leave you alone, I promise."

He tosses her bag back to her and meets her eyes. "Try anything and I won't waste time coming back. You'll be treading water for long time, understand?"

She smiles faintly. She can work with that. "Perfectly," she tells him.

Tru sits back and watches him as he guides the boat out. The rigid line of his back relaxes a little as they get into the open water; as they pick up speed, he smiles. A real smile, not the tight, sardonic one he's been flashing since he saw her. It makes Tru wonder what he'd be like if she really knew him. If they'd had that drink and talked about boats and the freedom of the water, instead of his impending death and his crazy wife.

"Okay," he says shortly, once the yacht is slicing through clear water. "What is this about?"

"Show me where we're going." She meets his eyes and waits. This isn't a battle she can afford to lose.

He gives her a sharp smile and hold her gaze. Finally he turns and grabs a roll of paper, holding one end as he throws it on the small table near the rear of the cockpit, letting it unroll with the force of his frustration.

Tru gets up and watches over his shoulder as he jabs at the map. "We'll head this way, along the coast, and then around Sandy Hook-" he runs his finger along the inside of the peninsula, "-into the Atlantic. Probably not too far, since we're getting a bit of a late start." He stares back at her meaningfully. "I stay far from the beaches, so don't even ask." He rolls the map back up and puts it away before turning toward her. "Your turn. Make it good."

She sits back down, trying to look relaxed. "You're going to die today."

He raises an eyebrow and waits.

"Helping a family with a capsized boat. You'll give your life vest to a kid and the current will pull you under."

He laughs, incredulous and a little bitter. "You suddenly have a high opinion of me, Miss Davies. Wasn't it just a month ago that you accused me of abusing my wife? Now I'm giving my life for strangers? Seems a bit out of character, wouldn't you say?"

"It's not my _opinion_ , it's what's going to happen. If I can't change things, you'll try to help them and you'll die."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You really believe all this, don't you?"

"Enough not to take the chance."

He searches her face for a long moment, then turns away without a word, and Tru takes a deep breath of relief.

It's close to fifteen minutes before he speaks again. Tru watches the water, waiting for a sailboat in the distance.

"So, can I expect you again next month with another crazy story?"

Tru keeps watching for the sailboat. "I don't know. No one's ever asked me for help more than once. Not before you."

"This happens a lot, then?"

She shrugs. "Every few weeks, so far. There's no schedule to it. I don't have it marked on my calendar. It just...happens."

He stays quiet, and she finds herself telling him how it started. About her mother. About her job at the morgue.

It feels easy with him watching the water ahead, never looking back at her incredulously, never telling her she's crazy.

All the sharp things she keeps expecting from him never come.

The sailboat ahead catches them both by surprise. Tru glances at her watch and her stomach knots-it reads 2:40.

"We have to call the Coast Guard," she says. "That's them. It has to be."

He looks back doubtfully.

Tru swallows. "Andrew, please."

"If you're wrong..." His tone just keeps it from being a threat. She knows perfectly well that a false call could get him arrested, and if she had any time, she'd be sympathetic. But she's already been too late once. She doesn't ever want to do it again.

"If I'm right, you'll die."

He just watches her uneasily.

"Give me the radio. I'll do it, just tell me what to say."

He looks out at the sailboat ahead of them and a gust of wind rushes across the water, making the waves peak restlessly and jostle the boats. Andrew's mouth becomes a thin line as he looks at Tru. "You'd better be right," he tells her, picking up the radio.

His speech is fast and precise, and she understands about three words of ten. She's never been much of an ocean-goer but she knows 'mayday' when she hears it, and she's relieved to hear static and then a response.

_"Roger that, we're on our way."_

The storm arrives fast and hard, just as Andrew returns the radio to its cradle.

"Come on," he yells over the growing fury of the wind, "You need a vest."

He drags her to the back of the boat and opens a compartment, tossing a vest at her and grabbing one for himself.

Tru panics for a second. "Wait! You need another one!"

He shakes his head and pulls her into the cabin. "Don't worry about it. The Coast Guard should be here any time. Just stay here, I need to go tie things down."

The sky is dark and rain is starting to thud against the windows. Tru looks at her watch and then out at the water.

It's almost three and there's no sign of the Coast Guard, but the sailboat is struggling. It crests on a dark wave, teeters for a long moment, and then goes over. "Shit," she breathes. _"Shit!"_

She runs onto the deck just in time to see Andrew look back at her and nod before he steps over the side. She screams his name, but the wind tosses it back at her as he's swallowed by the waves.

He bobs above the water and uses short strokes to pull himself closer to the sailboat. Tru strains against the rain and the darkness to watch him as he pulls one struggling figure against the capsized boat and then goes back for another.

The second one takes longer, and Tru scans the horizon for the Coast Guard, but she can't see anything through the rain.

When she turns back, Andrew has the second figure against the capsized boat, but as he goes back in the figure slips down and Tru lets out an involuntary whimper.

She watches Andrew spin back in the water, nearly loses sight of his vest as he goes under, and then there are two of them again.

It takes a minute for her to understand what she's seeing when Andrew's life vest rises above the water and twists...and then she realizes he's taking it off, and she screams at him.

_"Andrew, no! Wait!"_

She scans the horizon again, but no one's there. Once again, she's the only thing standing between him and his death.

"Damn it!" And she steps over the edge.

The water's cold and choppy, and a wave crashes over her immediately, making her sputter.

She forces her head up and finds the sailboat in the distance. It seems impossibly far, and her breaststroke is meant for laps in the pool, but she finally gets going in the right direction and starts looking for him. _Please don't let me be too late_ , she thinks desperately, looking for him over the waves.

She sees him up ahead, finally, with a woman grabbing frantically at him as he gets close. Tru watches them both go under and then bob back up. She can just hear the buzz of him yelling over the wind to calm the woman. He's too far away to hear her if she calls.

A light cuts through the darkness as the two go under again, and when the woman comes up this time, she's alone.

"Oh, God," Tru chokes, doubling her efforts to get to him. "Andrew!"

She feels something against her leg and fights to reach it. Fingers clutch and slide and catch, and then Tru feels the drowning woman pulling her backward and hears her keening, just before all three of them go under.

Tru panics in the blackness-the woman is scraping at her back, her head, tearing at her hair and pushing her under, and she can't feel Andrew's hand anymore.

There's a moment-what seems like an eternity-where she's sure she's dying. She has a vivid image of herself on the gurney, time of death being recited over her in Gardez's casual tone.

She's plucked from the water just as she takes a breath-inhaling sea and then air and then choking non-stop as someone hauls her up out of the water.

When she can finally breathe again, she's sitting on the deck of the Coast Guard's boat, the small family huddled together behind her.

There's a moment of all-encompassing panic when she doesn't see Andrew, and then suddenly there's a rush of people to one side, and she forces herself to get up and stumble over.

What little of him she can see through the mass of people looks cold and blue and infinitely still. Someone's doing mouth to mouth and talking about shock, and Tru rubs her hands together for warmth and hopes like hell that they have medical facilities here. He's going to need them.

Finally the crowd thins and she stumbles to her knees at his side.

"Are they okay?" he gasps, catching sight of her.

"Shhh... Yeah. Yeah, they're fine. Are you..."

He nods. "I'm okay. Just..." He winces as he tries to get up. "Just give me a minute." Tru watches his chest heave and tries not to think about how close it was. He's safe. That's all that matters.

"So," he finally manages. "You were right." He smiles-rueful and real.

She laughs. "Hurts to admit, doesn't it?"

His hand slides into hers and his smile softens. "I'll live."

"Yeah," she says, tightening her fingers around his. "You will."

 

 

 


End file.
